One More Time

I'm not done for today.

You thought I was.

And you were wrong.

IN YOUR FACE.

:D Well, okay, not really in your face, but whatever. It's time for bed soon. I have to say this because I'm a big girl and I have things to do tomorrow and I have to get up early to do them.

Being big really, truly sucks big time. I was talking to my dad a week ago about how when you get to be an "adult" summer vacation isn't really that big of a deal, it's just another part of the year. It has stopped being magical, and the feeling I have about this is similar to the one I experienced when Christmas stopping being magical (True story, Christmas stopped being magical for me. But there's a happy ending, I realized it was way cooler to be with my family than to have a magical Christmas. Go me. [Today I was at my friend's house and there was another one of my friends there and he had on his computer desktop the following message. AWESOMENESS: When I get sad, I stop being sad and get awesome instead. True story.]) (Don't you enjoy how I started and ended that parenthetical remark with True story? True story. I'll stop now...) So what I'm trying to say is, summer ain't all it's cracked up to be anymore. Lame.

And also this:

Praying for strength is similar to praying for patience. If you'e just being cute and spiritual and don't really care about having patience or strength, then don't do it. Because it SUCKS. I have never been so plagued with thoughts that are the exact opposite of what I want to be thinking in my life. It's like they wont stop, and I don't know how to make them stop. Someone save me! Jesus, please, save me. I'm not being facetious...I'm really done with it. I would tell you what's going on, but I have one more thing to do before I do that. So you'll have to wait. Sorry.

That's all I've got, because it is midnight and that is my self-inflicted bedtime.

Eyes for Loopholes

My parents went on a semi-vacation on Thursday. It is only a semi-vacation because they're going to be doing more wedding planning than relaxing. At least, I think that's what is going to happen. I might be wrong. It's happened before.

Since they've been gone I've done many things, and I feel the need to record them there, because I'm bored (which hasn't really, truly happened since....high school I think) and I need someone to talk to. Blogger, you shall be my data dump receptacle. Yay!

My parents left Thursday night, right after I left to go to a Bible Study, er, book study. We were talking about God, but I don't think Bibles were involved. Which is strange. But whatever. Perhaps we had hidden His word in our hearts. (hahahaha, bad Christian joke!) I didn't want to leave the book study because I knew that when I came home I would be all alone in this big house. By myself. With no one to talk to. Except for a cat, but Madeline isn't much of a conversationalist. She's more of a manipulator really. Pet me or your hand will experience pain beyond anything you can imagine. But I came home because everyone else left the book study and I didn't want to just glom onto the Turner family and become their fourth daughter. And so I was bored.

And then Friday rolled around. I was really excited because that evening there was a movie night planned at CCR, which meant that there would be PEOPLE to be with! Hurray! So I made snickerdoodles, because baking is what I do best (unless it's chocolate chip cookies. I can't get those right). I made a double recipe, because no one wants to run out of snickerdoodles. The janitor and custodian for my church live right next door to the buildings and are usually the ones who open and close at events. But this week they're also on vacation, so the task of opening and closing was left up to me. I packed up my snickdoodles, a few games, a couple of Disney movies, and headed over to the church. When I got there the time was 7:45. I opened everything up and waiting until 8, the designated time for people to start showing up, ready for some sweet snickerdoodle lovin'! But no one came. 8:10--No one here. 8:15--No one here. 8:20--No one here. At 8:30 I packed all my goodies up and started my car. Thank you faithful church members for showing up. I appreciate driving 15 minutes to the church and baking five dozen snickerdoodles for ghosts. Yay!

So is church ministry. Everyone gets really excited about a certain event, but then forget about it when the event is supposed to happen. Unless a specific person is in charge and calling everyone reminding them to come, chances are the event is going to flop. No biggie. God is love. He gives me love so that I can love you. :D

Now I had five dozen snickeroodles and no one to share them with. I most certainly didn't want to go home. I also had a problem because the people that I normally would call up to share snickerdoodles with were either at Riverlakes with their youth, or at Niles doing some really cool water night. (I was kind of bummed that I had to miss out on that. And let's be honest, I was even more bummed when no one showed up the movie night and I realized that I might have been able to go. But then, as I said before, so is ministry. And really, I wouldn't have it any other way. How else would God teach me patience and unconditional love if everything went as planned all the time?) So I called up a friend who I thought might be home and asked if she wanted some snickerdoodles. She did....sort of. And as I was driving toward her house I thought to myself: I can be the snickerdoodle fairy! (As Kayti told me when I got to her house, I was performing random acts of baking. Which is cute. Kayti is always coming up with hilarious and cute things like that.) I dropped off some snickerdoodles and looked through my phone and realized that I don't have very many phone numbers. Lame. But I did have Natalie's, whcih was fortunate, because I got to spend a lot of time with her and her precious puppy who I love. I love Natalie too. Really, I do. That was a good night as far as loneliness goes. I wasn't lonely, and that was good for me.

And Natalie let me borrow her copy of The Princess Bride, which came in handy the next day.

On Saturday, I read The Princess Bride. The whole thing, all day long, on various couches and chairs in my house. Sometimes I stood up and read it, because the fencing scenes are just too good to take sitting down.

There was one point in the day when I went over to Berean to find some books about games for groups. I also found some books that thoroughly convicted me. (Thank you God.)

Here's the truth: I don't ever feel like I'm cut out for youth ministry. I love it, but I don't know why, because most of what I have to do scares the living daylights out of me. Go talk to the kids about Jesus, and FREAK OUT before you do it. Go talk to their parents about camp, and FREAK OUT before you do it. Go show them how much you love Jesus, and FREAK OUT before, and while you do it. Those are only just three of the many situations I find myself freaking out about. But really, there's no go reason to freak out. Because of God. Because God knows my weak heart and will inside and out, and he also knows that my heart and will have nothing to do with youth learning about how much Jesus loves them. God lifts me up, I don't lift Him up. But I have to stop clutching at hand holds and allow him to keep lifting me up higher and higher and higher.

That is such a hard lesson for me to grasp and get into my head. It has taken me awhile to be very vulnerable with God, to come to the point where I just flat out admitted to Him what I know I'm bad at and the things that I don't measure up to. And apparently God has enough power and greatness to be strong in my stupidity and silliness. I don't know how He does this with my mess, but He does. He's amazing. He can do anything. He can resurrect Himself. I don't think I need to be worrying about anything if He can resurrect Hemself from death.

I've been thinking about loneliness for the past two days (for obvious reasons...) and I know that I need other people so desparately. I can't live alone, I would become ridiculous. If I were single for the rest of my life, I'd still have to have a roommate or something. Living alone is the most awful thing on the planet. Sure, it seems nice when you think about it, especially when everyone you live with is getting on your nerves. But ultimately the affirmation that people CAN live with you is nice to get everyday. Sometimes we don't always want to live with each other, but the ability to live with one another is great! I don't know how I got to this point of loving people and community so much. God must have changed my mind, because when I was in high school I hated being around people. I'm done with that now. My two days alone have shown me that.

On the flip side, when I am lonely I talk to God a lot more. There is more time to think about prayer and people who have needs I can meet when I am alone for a little while.

To cap off this rambly message here are some things God has been teaching me today, yesterday, and the day before that:

a) I need God so much. My life is silliness without Him. He makes me feel so content and satisfied and....good.

b) Jesus' resurrection is SO important! And so is His death. Growing up in church teaches you to take his death and resurrection for granted. If Jesus wasn't resurrected, then His death means nothing; He's just another guy that died a cruel death. But He's alive, death is conquered, there is no more fear. :D Makes me bubbly inside.

c) God must have all of me. Fears, weaknesses, desires, money, vulnerability, plans, obedience, EVERYTHING. Freaky isn't it? Yes. Yes it is.

Eyes

Then I took my own life and everything afterward was frightful, starting with Sylvester. He was there in my time after death, as if the words of Death Cab for Cutie songs are prophetic or something. There wasn't any sound. I don't think there was any color either. Just dark and needles pricking my skin, liquid coursing out of the holes that was too viscous to be blood. My whole body was shrinking, draining itself of--what exactly? I felt the streams coming out of my skin and could not grasp its wetness. Was it wet? Was it really liquid? Or was it more solid matter, or perhaps some gas close to its liquid form. I couldn't hold onto the streams coming out of me, my hands were becoming too small and shriveled to grasp. The smaller I got the more I realized I couldn't feel properly. My thoughts were nothing more than instincts. At one startling moment it became clear to me that I was being sapped of my energy, thoughts, dreams, experiences--in short, life. The streams that seeped from my pores drifted toward Sylvester. In his hands he held a clear glass jar, a number was inscribed on the side. He danced and jumped and twirled around, catching all of the wily streams in his glass jar. When there was nothing left of me but my eyes--which saw without recognizing--and he had gathered all the streams, he placed a cork topper on the jar and snapped his fingers. A shelf, covered with several similarly shaped and marked jars, appeared and he placed my jar on the shelf. Then he walked toward my eyes and scooped them up in his hand. Everything I knew was darkness, and it was not discomforting.

Waking up was a pain. Death had seemed so pleasant. Rest had been so near.

Brain Jello

I've been thinking about a few things lately. I can't lay them out yet because I'm not done thinking about them. I just want everyone to know that I actually have been using my brains, even though I am not in school being forced to use my brains (in sometimes frivolous and awful ways...general ed I hateth thee).

Here is a list.

Things That Will Change Your Life:

- Jr. High
- Car Crashes
- God
- Dating
- High School
- Best Friends
- Deaths of Others
- Words
- The combination of human genitalia
- The actions of people you don't know
- Cats
- College
- Moving away from home
- Calling your parents
- Driving
- New York
- Electricity
- Chemistry
- Forgiveness

There are more. Obviously. But I'm tired and am currently being very unwise.

Dancing to Windchimes

I do my best thinking at night. Waking up tomorrow is going to suck, but I think it's all worth it in the end.

Perfect Love

Today. Today I wonder if perfect love reaches out the most to those who are wounded.

In my head I have an image of Jesus (whatever he looks like) and the 'good' are surrounding Him. They are smiling and carrying their Bibles and they've got really sweet cross necklaces. You know what I'm talking about, the ones that are made out of the two little nails. Right, the crosses that remind us of what Jesus suffered. Good. I'm glad we're on the same page. The 'good' are cracking up and singing praise songs and waving their little hands in the air all around Him. He looks around at his troupe and smiles. Surrounding this group of the 'good' is another group, still His and still hopelessly cynical. They're the 'bad'. No, no, they're not the 'evil', that's different. This the group who want Jesus as much as, and if not more than, the 'good'. They want what he says to be real, tangible, and rampant in this world. They desperately want the Church to be something other than a poster-child for hypocrisy, sin, and idolatry. They want love--pure, passionate, life-changing love. God's love. Jesus' love. But look, they've been pushed out by the 'good'. Why? Look at them. They're obviously not up to par. Clearly they're against following the good old fashioned rules. Look at them. They seem to think it's okay to smoke and drink and laugh violently. God hasn't eradicated all of their sins yet. So the 'good' get together to teach the 'bad' a lesson. No love for them. Just painful truths about how they're not living up to the standard of the 'good'. They're spurned. Spurned by the 'good', those who should love the most. So the 'bad' stand on the outside. They're angry, confused, cynical, hating their brothers and sisters but trying to love Jesus. They're wounded.

And all the hand waving and loud singing of the 'good' cannot distract Jesus from the fact that His bride is broken. Raped of her unity by Pride. Accosted by Hate, Jealousy, Self-righteousness, and Fear. She plugs up Love so that it cannot escape the boundaries of her body. No one may have it, no one may receive it unless they take the right steps and say the magic words and don that cross necklace. Now you're clean! Now you're worthy of love! Congratulations. Jesus loves you now that you follow Him.

So the 'bad' stand there on the outskirts. They want Jesus, they want the New Testament church at the beginning of Acts, they want that all-consuming fire, but not at the price of fitting in with the 'good'. Screw that to hell.

Do you see what's in my head? There's just no way that perfect love holes itself up with the 'good' people because it's apparent that there are other people in the world who desperately need perfect love. Everyone needs perfect love. And I have a feeling that perfect love reaches out more for the broken, the wounded, the hopelessly cynical, the person who sins in all those ways we're so familiar with. Because they need it. Because they don't want a pat on the back for their impeccable service record, but because they need perfect love. God's love. Love that strives to meet needs no matter what the cost.

What?! Are you CRAZY?!

Things that are better than finishing your last paper/final and realizing that summer, glorious summer, is now standing in front of you, reaching out its hand and beckoning:

1. Jesus coming back.

That's pretty much all I could think of.

In other news, I'm fairly certain that the front lawn has been watered twice in the last 12 hours. Once at 5pm, and now at 5am.

So. Do you want to know why I'm awake at 5am? You can probably guess. Hint: I can absolutely assure you that I did not in fact wake up this early. Because if I woke up this early it would only be because I needed to pee really bad and I most certainly would not get on my computer when my luscious bed is calling out my name. "Alise.......Alise......guess who is warm and wonderful?"

No. I'm up and awake and buzzing because I had coffee at 12am this morning, right before I got down to business and started writing out the rest of my final. And now that everything is done (final completed and paper written) I can't find the end of quarter exhaustion in me because I have no caffeine tolerance at all. That's right, I like to keep my caffeine tolerance low. That way when I really need to stay artificially awake I only have to down one cup of coffee instead of a bazillion before I'm jittery and running around like a crazy person.

I've found that this also works with medicine. If you don't take medicines like Tylenol or Advil until you really, really need them, they'll work much more effectively. Although I'm actually more convinced that those two drugs are really placebos and we're all just suckers. Billion dollar industries strike again! Those wicked jerks.

Feeling the Pinch

All my life I've observed Daylight Savings Time. I've always thought it was a weird concept, but, not being from Arizona, I went with it. I haven't really give much thought to DST, because other than the week that we spend recovering from the time change the change doesn't make too much of a difference. Every time DST has happened in my life, I've always welcomed the change, as if this next time change were the best thing ever. "All right! It's getting darker early! My favorite thing!" or "All right! More daylight! My favorite thing!" is what I'd think. But now that I really ponder DST, I feel that the summer version of things is a lot better. What is there that's better than the sun going down at 9 pm, giving me and you and everyone in between ample time to put homework off and crave summer? Not much.

Tomorrow is the final critique for my ceramics class. I went into the art building today to collect all my projects and see what I've got. It's not much, just some thrown pots that are getting increasingly better (hallelujah!), a tiny teapot (that I chipped today! Horror of horrors. I was so mad at myself), and some random things. I don't know if I really followed any of the projects that we were supposed to do. I don't feel too bad. But I was surprised at the lack of quality in my work. While I was making all of my sweet pots and bowls and teapots I felt particularly proud of my accomplishments. But I look at them now and criticize my work like there's no tomorrow. It's just....not that good. :D Nothing to be ashamed of. I take it as a sign that I'm getting better at ceramics. I hope it's a sign anyway.

Photography is next. I'm stoked for fall quarter. Taking on the Art minor is the best thing that I've ever done. True, I feel very uncreative when face to face with artistic giants and geniuses who actually have something that they want to accomplish. However, all of that is nothing. Being encouraged to think strange thoughts and make those thoughts into reality is gratifying.

Is it a waste to be really, insanely good at only one thing? Is it better to be good at one thing? Or is it better to be a little good at various things? I don't know the answer to this question. I think that in some respects this question is a little impossible to answer.

Good news: The bluejays are gone from the backyard.

PS: The Spring Quarter is almost done! This is finals week. This is the physical manifestation of relief.